


shadows & monsters

by pewpewjun



Category: AB6IX (Band), EXO (Band), NCT (Band), Pentagon (Korea Band), SEVENTEEN (Band), Stray Kids (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Branding, Choking, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Slapping, Crying, Dehumanization, Drug Use, Fear, Forced Feminization, Forced Masturbation, Fucking Machines, Generally Very Fucked Up, Humiliation, Impact Play, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Milking, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Object Insertion, Objectification, Omorashi, Outing, Painplay, Porn Some Plot, Public Humiliation, Rape, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Scat, Sexual Abuse, Sexuality, Size Kink, Some Plot, Temperature Play, Tentacles, Verbal Humiliation, Vomiting, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:53:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pewpewjun/pseuds/pewpewjun
Summary: the frenzy was unbelievable. fans crying and sobbing whilst clutching merchandise, media companies rushing to the scene, tabloid newspapers writing libraries worth of articles on it. an explosion at the largest annual awards show in the music industry calendar had disrupted the arena’s security long enough for a worrying number of idols to go missing. completely vanished. gone. nothing on the arena’s security cameras, nothing on the cameras on the street outside, no eyewitnesses. just a select group of the nation’s most famous musicians completely missing. the initial response was shock, with millions of social media users destroying the internet with their panicked and terrified response, worried that their favourite artists and band members had been injured or killed in the bombing. the truth of course, was much much worse.(on hiatus)
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai, Idols/Anonymous, Implied Kim Jongin/Do Kyungsoo, Implied Lee Taeyong/Jaehyun, Implied Park Jimin/Kim Taehyung, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going to be structured fairly simply. Whilst each individual chapter will be an independent smutty vignette, the detailed account of what's happening to a specific idol with little obvious plot, there will be an overarching story that will continue as it progresses. The story will begin with a select eighteen idols, but I will be introducing and including other idols later in the plot. At the start, this will be all smut, but more drama and action elements will be introduced as the story naturally progresses with a much more obvious plot. This is all fiction! I do not encourage any of this in real life! The obvious warning, this story contains very explicit sexual material, including such things as rape, blood, gore, impact play, knifeplay, watersports, possible scat and vomit, mutilation and more. In other words, this story is fucked up, don't keep reading if you object to such fucked up things. Now that's out of the way, let's get into this.
> 
> Every five chapters, I'll be posting a short vignette chapter like this to add plot and add a proper narrative progression where we run through the mental and physical state of a few different hostages. I'll be attempting to update every other day at the least. If I cannot, then don't worry, I haven't abandoned it.

_ "do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me? _

_ do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me? _

_ saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?" _

~

_ "Where's the fun if you can't instill fear in your victims? If you can't see them looking up at you with tears in their eyes, sobbing and whimpering as you force them to do increasingly depraved things. Make them feel like dogs. Make them feel like toys" _

~

**Jeon Jungkook (전정국), 23 Years Old**

**BTS, Big Hit Entertainment**

Darkness consumes Jungkook’s vision as he awakens from his painful slumber. The first thing he notices as soon as he wakes up is the black, slightly tattered fabric tied around his head, totally blocking his vision and preventing him from seeing anything at all. Achingly tight ropes constrict his torso, tying his slim, muscular body rigidly against the unstable wooden chair that he’s sat on, preventing him from breathing except for the shallow, desperate breaths leaving his sore throat. He feels a pounding in his head, possibly connected to the sticky substance in his hair, although with every throb of his head, a current of pain ripples down his spine. Everything aches, from his painfully contorted arms, tied and twisted behind his back, to his moist yet slightly bleeding lips. The blood trickling from his slightly wounded lips slowly drips onto the sizable, agonizing metal ball gag in his mouth. Every time he attempts to cry or whimper, it’s muffled. Every time he attempts to move, it’s restricted. He's completely trapped.

**Min Yoongi (민윤기), 27 Years Old**

**BTS, Big Hit Entertainment**

The first thing Yoongi notices when he wakes up is the incredibly agonising ache in his arms. They feel like they're being torn off, his joints throbbing with such constant pain. They're almost numb by now, but enough sensation remains for Yoongi to feel the unbearable pain in every inch of his body. It doesn't take him long to sway his legs and realise exactly what's going on. A series of ice cold, wet chains are securely fastened around his wrists, which are in turn hanging from the ceiling, suspending his slim body in the middle of the thick, smokey air. A cacophony of strong smells waft towards Yoongi, filling his nostrils and almost making him pass out again with the painfully overpowering scents. The strong smell of blood is one of the most obvious and clearly discernible smells in the room, metallic and looming amongst the stuffy air. Yoongi's nose twitches with each sniff, and soon he picks up another fairly strong smell. Was that… no, surely not… Taehyung's deodorant?

~

“ _ You don’t get treated well. If I go out of my way to take you and fuck with you, you aren’t getting velvet and mahogany. You’re getting exactly what I want you to get. And that’s whatever makes you feel worthless, useless, pathetic. Just like you really are _ ”

~

**Kim Hyojong (김효종), 26 Years Old**

**Soloist, P-Nation Entertainment**

A dizzying feeling overcomes Hyojong when he wakes up. He struggles to keep his eyes open somehow, a heavy feeling filling his aching head and shooting down his backbone. His vision is blurry, the objects and shapes around him distorted into a painfully unintelligible mess. Then he realizes exactly why everything looks so weird. He looks down to see his legs, tied together and hanging from… the ceiling. The dizzying pain is caused by the fact that he’s hanging upside down from the roof, the dense blood in his veins rushing to his head and making it feel like it weighs a thousand kilograms. He wriggles, desperately attempting to free himself from the unbearably painful restriction, but all he does is slam his body into the wall. With his collision with the solid brick wall, he feels his ribs slamming into the painful stone and causing them to make a worrying crunching sound. He lets out a loud groan, biting down on his lips and drawing blood as he attempts to deal with the pain. Once the echoing ringing in his ears calms down, alongside the agonising pain in his torso, he attempts to interpret the invisible objects around him. It takes him a few moments… but then he sees it. They’re bodies.

**Kim Jongdae (김종대), 27 Years Old**

**EXO, SM Entertainment**

When Jongdae’s achy eyelids slowly flutter open and he begins to regain consciousness, he’s hit by an awful smell. It smells like a mixture of stagnant water and rotting meat, he can’t quite tell what it is, but he can’t find out. He’s tied back against a wall, arms and legs spread out wide and fastened tightly to the brick surface, a leather strap fixed firmly against his face, blocking his vision and digging into his skin. A deep aching pain lingers in his knees and ankles, legs spread painfully wide, tugging at the aching muscles inside of his thighs. He feels something pressing against his back, an iron bar following the entire length of his backbone and painfully correcting his posture. It’s once he manages to clear his thoughts that he realises exactly how helpless he is… completely spread out and forcibly tied to the wall. He can’t move at all. He can barely breathe because of the tight leather straps restricting his chest. He’s completely at the mercy of whoever put him here.

~

_ “You’re fucked. You think there’s hope… there isn’t. For as long as I want you, you’re completely underneath my control. You’re completely mine. Then when I’m bored, I’ll toss you away like trash. You’re expendable. You’re useless” _

~

The frenzy was unbelievable. Fans crying and sobbing whilst clutching merchandise, media companies rushing to the scene, tabloid newspapers writing libraries worth of articles on it. An explosion at the largest annual awards show in the music industry calendar had disrupted the arena’s security long enough for a worrying number of idols to go missing. Completely vanished. Gone. Nothing on the arena’s security cameras, nothing on the cameras on the street outside, no eyewitnesses. Just a select group of the nation’s most famous musicians completely missing. The initial response was shock, with millions of social media users destroying the internet with their panicked and terrified response, worried that their favourite artists and band members had been injured or killed in the bombing. The truth of course, was much much worse.

Individual private security teams searched the rubble for hours, bandmates and close friends desperately helping and clawing at the broken concrete, blood pouring from their hands as they cut themselves, seeking some hope of finding their colleagues. No hope. Even once machines had been employed, rushed in later that night, nobody was found underneath the debris. It’s once the news hit that they weren’t in the ruined arena that fans really began to panic. Their idols weren’t dead, they weren’t injured. They’d been kidnapped. 

~

_ “lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me? _

_ do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me? _

_ pointing fingers 'cause you'll never take the blame like me?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So obviously this was just the introduction chapter, where I set the scene and explained our starting point. From here on out, I’ll be writing pure porn and smut with occasional plot, as explained at the top. Refer back to the top for the trigger warning, read the tags, leave if you don’t like this content and enjoy!


	2. Jungkook's Milking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s cute that you think you can stop it” he smirks, sliding the gag back between Jungkook’s teeth and strapping it even tighter than before “You can’t, now shut up again”  
> ~  
> TW// noncon, milking machines, fucking machines, cockslapping, bondage, aphrodisiacs

_ "i'm in serious shit, I feel totally lost  
if I'm asking for help it's only because  
being with you has opened my eyes  
could I ever believe such a perfect surprise?" _

Jungkook awakens with a jolt, a shock shooting up his spine and rippling across every inch of his body. The feeling ripples out of his fingertips and the tips of his toes, leaving his body merely aching and tired. For the first time since waking up, he can see. He’s in some kind of dark, grimey room. The air is thick with the smell of stagnant water and a light haze of smoke, charcoal and molten metal thick in the hazy mist. Despite the fact that he’s free to see, nothing around him is clear or visible. He narrows his eyes, desperately attempting to make out one of the shapes around him. Nothing. 

With a loud clunk, a door opens somewhere behind Jungkook and whilst he can’t turn to see, he sees the smoke in the room beginning to clear. Footsteps approach, and soon the tall figure of a man is standing in front of him. The dark silhouette walks around the room, opening several blackout blinds fixated to the walls to allow moonlight from outside to stream in. A light clicks on, and whilst it takes a second for Jungkook’s eyes to adjust to the pale, fluorescent glow, he soon manages to fully take in his situation. He’s strapped into some kind of macabre looking contraption, legs held against the main metal body of the device by brown leather straps, arms tied behind his back by an irritatingly tight plastic binding. Dark and indistinguishable, the man in the room still remains completely anonymous. He’s wearing almost completely black clothing, a woollen ski mask pulled over his face to mask his identity, a large bag in his right hand. Jungkook gulps, beginning to tremble slightly as his mind races with thoughts of the possible contents of the bag.

“Wh… who are you? Why am I here?”

“You think I’d tell you that? That’s sweet”

“Just-”

“Don’t try. If you talk too much I’ll gag you. And I don’t think you want that, hm?”

Jungkook nods a sombre nod, pressing his chin against the leather surface in an effort to not strain his neck. The man begins rummaging through his bag, a selection of loud clunks and clangs coming from whatever’s inside. As Jungkook looks around to distract himself and make an attempt to calm himself down, he sees a mirror opposite him. Now he completely takes it in. He’s entirely naked, slim, tanned body strapped firmly to the huge machine, arms and legs scarred with the marks left by the leather straps and a faint line streaking across his face where he was previously blindfolded. His awkward position is positively humiliating. His ass is positioned so it pokes up in the air, leaving his entire body completely exposed and vulnerable to whoever wishes to interfere with him. He assumes that the mysterious masked figure to his left is the one who put him here, but judging by the size and quality of the equipment dotted around the room, he doubts he’s alone. 

“I’m just going to inject you with this. Don’t struggle. It’ll hurt if you do” the man chuckles, a large syringe in his left hand, lightly flicking the worryingly thick needle and pressing it against Jungkook’s arm. Fuck, that hurts. The needle slides into his forearm, the deep blue liquid within it slowly disappearing inside of him. The difference within his body is almost immediately noticeable. A kind of pulsing rhythm begins to pound through every inch of his body, his veins flowing with the drug that makes him twitch and feel desperately sensitive. However much he doesn’t want it, however sick he feels, he feels his shaft beginning to grow hard against his stomach. 

Reaching below Jungkook, the man slides out a portion of the frame that Jungkook is strapped to so the boy is almost suspended in mid air. His rapidly hardening cock sways beneath him, already turning red and needy, leaking pathetically all over his own body. A calloused hand wraps around Jungkook’s cock, pressing hard against the sensitive tip and squeezing the veiny shaft. The anonymous man strokes for a few moments, bringing Jungkook to full hardness, stopping occasionally to check the whimpering boy’s heart rate and pulse. It’s vomit inducing. Tears begin to well in the corners of Jungkook’s wide, doe eyes, eventually spilling down his soft cheek onto his lips. The salty taste of his own misery spreads across his dry tongue.

“Hmm...” a serious hum spills from the lips of the man working underneath Jungkook’s vulnerable body. Jungkook is oblivious to what’s happening, but he hears the clunking of several loud metal mechanisms before some kind of motor or generator jumps awake with a whirl. The noise and vibrations rippling through the large structure makes Jungkook’s stomach jump, a kind of deep anticipation pooling in his stomach whilst he desperately waits to see what’s coming for him. Involuntarily, his slim, rhythmic hips begin thrusting into mid air. An amused snigger leaves the man’s throat as he sees Jungkook’s desperate hip movements, reaching up to deliver a stinging slap to his bouncing, dripping cock. A loud, pained cry echoes around the room as the cold skin makes contact with Jungkook’s length, whimpering and sobbing as the reality of the situation strikes him.

“Tch… okay”

With a loud clunk, the man frees an intimidating looking transparent plastic tube from underneath the frame and clips the large plastic cylinder on the end around the thick base of Jungkook’s cock. The strong smell of sweat and precum is thick in the air, and Jungkook’s body is a total mess. Every inch of his tanned skin is dripping with salty sweat, his toned body shining under the clearly artificial white light. Retreating to a spot behind Jungkook, slightly out of sight, the man starts clicking and fiddling with switches, kicking the machine into a higher level of operation. Then it starts. The tube secured around Jungkook’s dick begins painfully yanking and sucking on it, the industrial-scale suction on it beginning to immediately make him sob even louder. His dick begins to throb, red and sore as the machine monotonously and repeatedly pulls at the sensitive organ. Tears streaming down his face begin to pool around his already stained cheeks. He’s overwhelmed, being drawn closer and closer to his orgasm whilst he sobs and yelps. 

“I warned you. You’re being too loud. Pathetic bitch”

Before he even has time to process it, a cold metal ball gag is pushed between his cracked lips, holding his jaw open achingly wide to prevent him from making as much noise. He continues to weep, saliva drooling out around the gag whilst he’s dragged towards his orgasm. When he cums, the pain in his lower half cancels out his pleasure, his climax ruined whilst his hips needily thrust forward and his balls empty into the tube. As soon as he spills into the machine with a loud cry, he begins yelping out with oversensitivity. The tube continues to relentlessly suck on his shaft, and the unrelenting, monotonous rhythm of the machine causes shocks of pain to ripple throughout Jungkook’s body.

Attempting to pull away and escape from the industrial scale machine obviously angers the man, since he approaches Jungkook and straps several more restrictive leather belts around his torso, tying him so close to the machine that he can barely move anything other than his fingers or eyelids. Only once the man retreats back to the control panel does Jungkook realise exactly why he was being strapped down. Another mechanism behind him whirls into motion, and Jungkook is clueless as to its nature until he feels the tip of a large rubber sex toy pressing against his pretty, exposed asshole. The gag is pulled out of his mouth for a moment, a disparate string of saliva connecting his lips to the cool metal. The man whispers a gentle yet gravelly whisper into Jungkook’s ear.

“Are you a virgin, bitch?”

“H- hyeshyessss” Jungkook slurs, mouth drooly and hanging wide open “Please don’t do this. I’ll do anything. I have money, I have fame. Just don’t do this”

“It’s cute that you think you can stop it” he smirks, sliding the gag back between Jungkook’s teeth and strapping it even tighter than before “You can’t, now shut up again”

The worryingly thick dildo slowly slides into Jungkook’s pink, virginal hole, slicked up with a mixture of industrial strength lubricant and Jungkook’s own sweat, stretching out his pretty rim and slowly sinking inside of him. Tears of resignation and defeat stream down Jungkook’s soft, already tear stained cheeks, accompanied by loud, broken sobs. The tight stretch of his previously untouched entrance makes Jungkook almost numb, laying in a puddle of his own sweat, tears and drool as he feels a certain degree of his innocence being taken. The man observing the machine chuckles and rubs a hand across Jungkook’s exposed, toned back, watching the almost irresistible way that the huge, ridged rubber toy slides in and out of Jungkook’s pretty, warm asshole and his cock twitches with every orgasm, an almost endless stream of cum dribbling from the tip.

As it repeatedly abuses Jungkook's pretty hole, he feels every sense of virginity he formerly had disappearing, the nice, tight stretch of his asshole accommodating all twelve inches of the enormous artificial cock. It pulls out, the tip just remaining inside before the rest of the shaft slams into him, eliciting a pretty, broken whimper every time. Every thrust is the same. Monotonously painful, similarly agonising.  Sweat continues to drip from Jungkook’s pretty body, pooling on the black leather below it. He’s drooly and fucked out, only semi-conscious whilst he feels his tight, smooth balls being repeatedly drained whilst his prostate is repeatedly abused. An unbearable pain pulses through his body from the repeated assault, but he can’t do anything, just simply lay there and take it. 

~

Doctor Park smiles as he looks down to see the large container beside Jungkook’s current position slowly filling up. It’s already around half full of the boy’s fertile, young seed, more dripping in every thirty seconds or so. He can see why Jungkook’s balls look so sore, the amount of cum he’s producing is phenomenal and the way that it’s almost continuously dribbling from his sensitive cockhead is doing wonders for the volume within the container. As expected, the needy boy has been fucked dumb by this point, barely even staying awake as his body is just used as nothing more than a machine to produce cum. He’s helpless. Useless. Just laying there and letting himself be abused.

_"and i'm all mixed up, feeling cornered and rushed_  
_they say it's my fault but I want her so much_  
_want to fly her away where the sun and rain_  
_come in over my face, wash away all the shame"_


	3. Pretty Boy Hyunjin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “H- why are you doing this?” Hyunjin sobs “Please just let me go”
> 
> “Why I’m doing it is none of your business. You really think I’m gonna let you leave with your virginity~Hyunjinnie?”
> 
> “You know I’m a virgin?”
> 
> “Oh come on. You have that clueless look every virgin has” the man chuckles “like a dumb puppy in the headlights”
> 
> ~
> 
> TW// noncon, bloodplay, forced feminization, implied somnophilia

_ “we're just playing hide and seek _

_ it's getting hard to breathe under the sheets with you _

_ i don't want to play no games _

_ i'm tired of always chasing, chasing after you” _

“Hyunjin-ssi, you look so pretty”

The cold, slick barrel of a gun rubs circles against Hyunjin’s temple. Salty tears pour down his pretty cheeks, salty tears of embarrassment and humiliation. His cheeks are blushing a blotchy mixture of red and pink, lips desperately clenched together in an attempt not to anger his captors. 

“Have you ever worn clothes like this, baby girl?”

“N- no”

“Oh, what a shame. You look so pretty in them. Maybe you need to wear them more often”

Hyunjin gulps, a wave of embarrassment washing over his vulnerable figure. His entire, slim body is decorated by a variety of pretty clothes. Around his waist and thighs, he’s wearing a bouncy, delicate black skirt, on his upper half he’s wearing a white cropped top decorated with pretty, vibrant flowers, exposing his soft, slim tummy and narrow waist and on his delicate legs, he’s wearing a pair of thigh high, white lacy stockings.

The clothes aren’t foreign to Hyunjin, in fact the selection of soft and intricate fabrics feel soft and reassuring against his skin. But the tears streaming down his cheeks and the gun pressed to his cold forehead drag him out of that safe space. He can’t breathe. The room races around Hyunjin, the tears and blabbered sobs turning him into nothing but a drooly, whimpery mess. This obviously entertains the two men holding him in the basement of the mysterious house. They both laugh, one of them wiping his finger across Hyunjin’s soft cheek and pressing it into his mouth. Salty and bitter, Hyunjin can taste the desperation on the man’s digit, along with a mixture of other worrying and unpleasant tastes. One of the men, clad in a black ski mask and leather jacket shifts Hyunjin so he’s in front of him, the gun still pressed to his head. Still looming above him.

Gentle and soft, the man slowly pushes a strand of Hyunjin’s hair out of his eyes, creating a warm moment of intimacy where Hyunjin feels somewhat less threatened. Then he pulls back, delivering a harsh slap to Hyunjin’s tear stained face and making the boy cry out and fall to the floor. The contact of the cold concrete with Hyunjin’s bare legs frightens him, pulling his knees up to his chest and curling up into a ball to attempt to protect himself. He immediately feels a firm grip underneath his soft thighs, hauling him up to his shaky feet and pressing him against the wall, ramming his ribs into the brick and making him yelp out at the painful contact.

“You’re such a tease you know that? You can sob and cry all you like, but you were begging for this. You’re too pretty not to be ruined… too pretty not to be fucked up”

“H- why are you doing this?” Hyunjin sobs “Please just let me go”

“Why I’m doing it is none of your business. You really think I’m gonna let you leave with your virginity~Hyunjinnie?”

“You know I’m a virgin?”

“Oh come on. You have that clueless look every virgin has” the man chuckles “like a dumb puppy in the headlights”

Hyunjin goes to speak, but he’s speechless, so nothing but a croaked whine leaves his throat. An amused and somewhat patronising smirk appears underneath the man’s ski mask. The smile plastered on his face is chilling, sinister almost, and it sends a shiver down Hyunjin’s spine. The man holding the gun slides it down Hyunjin’s back and slips it into the other man’s back pocket before leaving him to take care of Hyunjin by himself.

“Now we’re alone, pup”

Reaffirming his strong grasp on Hyunjin’s body, the man places his hands around his pretty throat and presses down on his windpipe. The pretty, dressed up boy lets out a strangled gasp, clawing at the already stuffy air in the room and attempting to breathe whilst the sweaty, rough fingers restrict his airway. Unwelcome wandering hands push up the back of Hyunjin’s skirt, exposing his plush, smooth ass cheeks and the pretty red panties decorating his soft lower half. Relaxing the grasp on Hyunjin’s throat, the man yanks down his pretty underwear and pushes four of his fingers into Hyunjin’s mouth. Drooly and pathetic, Hyunjin whimpers around the calloused digits pushing into the back of his throat, gagging and spluttering whilst also resisting the firm grip on his body. 

Dripping and prostrate, the fingers withdraw from Hyunjin’s throat and slowly trace across his pale thighs before slipping between his plump ass cheeks and rubbing against his pink hole. Pausing for a moment, the man presses his lips to the back of Hyunjin’s neck and slowly begins to mark it up. His soft lips soon begin to grow invasive, the wet touch roaming uninvitedly across the soft skin of his collar bones and throat, harshly leaving red marks and bruises on the previously flawless skin. With a single thrust, four fingers bury themselves deep within Hyunjin’s virgin asshole. The stretch is painful, and the digits almost immediately begin to tear up and bruise Hyunjin’s insides. With the thrust of his fingers, the man’s teeth bite down painfully on the young boy’s ear lobe, drawing blood. A raw, unbridled howl breaks free from Hyunjin’s throat, screaming at the top of his lungs as he feels his formerly untouched entrance being forced open and torn apart. 

The broken sobs from before return, interspersed amongst pained cries of ‘please’ and ‘stop’. Hyunjin begins to feel a disgusting mixture of his own saliva and blood dripping down his thighs. An ordinarily lewd sound emerges from underneath his skirt, the squelch of fingers pushing around inside of him, the same sound that his heavy, red dildo from back at home makes when it slides into his hole. Except this time it isn’t saliva or his favourite vanilla flavoured lube. It’s blood. His own blood. After several minutes of harsh and unbearable thrusting, the man pulls his fingers out and pushes them into Hyunjin’s mouth, causing the boy to just sob out even more, feeling his own blood spreading across his tongue and dripping down his throat.

Dropping his pants and underwear, kicking them aside and gripping Hyunjin’s waist even firmer than before, the man grasps his thick, rock hard length by the base and buries it inside of Hyunjin’s bleeding asshole with one thrust. The tip immediately slams into Hyunjin’s sensitive prostate. However, the pressure on that one sensitive spot feels like nothing more than an agonising, bloodstained sting, stretching his already torn, bleeding hole even wider and drawing even more pleading words from deep with Hyunjin’s raw throat.

“Fuck… you took that well. I guess you needed to be forced open first”

“S- stop” Hyunjin sobs, defeated and desperate as his body is abused roughly by the relentless stranger.

“Why would I do that? I’ve already taken your virginity and ruined your pretty little hole. Now be a good girl and take this for me”

“G- girl...”

“Of course!” the man beams “you’re wearing the prettiest little girl’s clothes, you’re taking a big grown man’s fat cock inside of you and you have the pretty, long hair of a little girl. What else would you be?”

Hyunjin says nothing, just releases a choked sob as he finds himself taken aback by the humiliating words. A hand threads itself in his soft, blond hair and yanks his head back. The man’s hips continue to roll forward, burying himself within the persistently resisting pretty boy and whispering dirty things in his bleeding ear. The blood dripping down his thighs has pretty much painted the porcelain-like skin a deep crimson by now, spilling down onto the floor and his delicate white stockings. After a while, Hyunjin feels himself drifting in and out of consciousness, pretty eyelashes fluttering closed whilst he bites down on his lip. The room around him begins to fade out to white, his entire body numbing with both emotional and physical distress.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s eyes flutter closed for the final time, collapsing down against the floor as he feels the man spilling inside of him and pulling out. Following several hours of unwanted touches and invasive hands from numerous men, eventually they all file out and leave the room empty, leaving Hyunjin propped up against a wall in the corner, next to a metal prison-like toilet. His eyes flutter open several hours later with a startled groan, laying in a putrid puddle of his own vomit and blood. His hole has been cleaned up, although dried blood remains on his thighs. Finally, he’s alone. At least that’s what he thinks.

_ “i don't give a fuck about you anyways _

_ whoever said I gave a shit 'bout you? _

_ you never share your toys or communicate _

_ i guess I'm just a play date to you” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one mixed a few more kinks than I was expecting, but I hope it's okay! If there's any requests you have, whether it's specific idols or kinks, leave them below! I hope you enjoyed this! :>


	4. Chan's Pretty When He Cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the stream of warm, acrid liquid dripping down his legs begins to die down, he buries his head in his hands and pulls his knees as close as possible to his chest.
> 
> “Disgusting” the woman tuts, bandaging the gash on her smooth arm and holding the knife against Chan’s throat. This is met by nothing but yet another choked sob and stream of tears.
> 
> TW// watersports, bloodplay, physical assault, crying, knifeplay, whipping, pegging, slight gore/injury, broken bones, noncon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really violent and more story based than porn based! Please don't read if you have any issues with the kinks listed in the trigger warning above, it's very gruesome and bloody. Other than that, please enjoy!

_ “i've tasted blood and it is sweet _

_ i've had the rug pulled beneath my feet _

_ i've trusted lies and trusted men _

_ broke down and put myself back together again” _

The cold steel blade burns lines into Chan’s back. He can feel every movement of the cool metal knife, and every drop of blood trickling down his spine. Broken cries and yelps are muffled by the petroleum soaked rag pushed roughly between his spit soaked teeth. Crimson rivulets dripping on the soft skin slowly paint it red, and the shapes formed by the scars write out incredibly degrading words across his shoulder blades.

The mysterious figure behind him, a black-clad woman with a slim figure and a selection of miserable and intimidating torturous implements. In her leather-gloved right hand, she’s gripping the tape covered handle of a sinister looking leather whip, the leather strands dripping with a mixture of blood and the petroleum she’s unceremoniously spilled on the floor. The floor in front of Chan is stained with an equally unpleasant mixture of tears and bloody saliva.

“Your back looks so beautiful, y’know” she snarls, heavy hints of sarcasm and a provocative tone thick in her cold voice “But you’ve made my floor all messy. I think I should flog you for that”

She reaches down to pull the putrid cloth from Chan’s mouth, dropping it down onto his defined chest and whispering harshly into his ear.

“Count for me”

Clearing his red-raw throat and attempting to open his mouth, his jaw sore and stiff from the prolonged restriction, Chan scrunches his eyes closed in preparation. His breathing is laboured and shallow. Then the impact. With the first crack of her whip, the woman draws a bloody, deep gash into Chan’s back, adding to the bloody, torn mess of his skin. He cries out, doubling forward in shock and pulling at the ropes that tie his hands together. Pained yelps echo around the concrete-lined room. With the second and third strikes of the stinging leather, the skin of Chan’s back begins to go numb. Fuck. His knees hurt, pressing into the uneven concrete of the floor, holding up his entire body weight.

Pretty bruises on his legs contrast with the red and bloody wounds decorating his back, painting his skin a mosaic of vibrant colours. His entire body is coloured a varying shade of red or black, with the gashes on his back continuing to dribble blood onto his ruined skin and sweaty white underwear.

As the woman behind him turns away to clean off the whip in her hand, dipping it in antiseptic and washing away the remnants of Chan’s blood, a sudden surge of adrenaline begins to pump through his veins. For a moment, her back is turned, and he’s no longer the vulnerable one. It takes effort to get his bruised knees to push himself up onto his feet, but once he is standing, slightly shaky and trembling, he finds the energy to launch himself forward and push over the woman behind him. She lands on the cluttered table beside her, knocking it over and spilling the selection of various chemicals onto the floor, one of the smashed vials cutting deep into her forearm. Using the sharp edge of one of the cracked glass beakers, Chan manages to cut through the rope holding together his hands and frees them, red friction burns marking up his forearms.

Whilst she’s distracted with the fresh wound on her arm, Chan runs to the stairs leading up to the door, clambering up on his hands and knees and falling over several times onto the worn wood. Just as he reaches the top of the narrow stairs, he places his hand down in an unfortunate place, and a sharp, silver nail stabs straight up through his hand, piercing through the other side and leading him to collapse down in agony.

With a loud shriek, Chan collapses down against the top step, just inches from the door that would provide his escape whilst clutching his bloody hand. Overwhelming ripples of pain shoot through Chan’s body and up his arm, blood continuing to spurt from the wound and soak into the slightly rotten wood underneath him. Whilst he’s distracted, the figure at the bottom of the steps grabs a hold of his foot and yanks him down the inclined staircase, landing on the concrete floor at the bottom with a thud. An aching pain lingers in his chest once he recovers from the initial shock of his collision with the solid floor. He blinks his eyes for a moment, regaining his composure. As soon as he begins to regain awareness, he feels the bloodstained knife slowly pressing against his throat.

Being dragged up and rammed into the wall, Chan sputters and coughs, feeling the rough surface of the concrete rubbing against his scarred back. Hands grip his shoulders and repeatedly slam him into the solid wall, sending repeated shocks of pain through his prone body. Blown wide with fear, his eyes are scared and shocked, the pain causing him to yelp and shriek out every time he feels his body being pushed again. Drool begins to run down his chin between sobs, dribbling onto his bare, bloody chest. Once he’s shaking, legs pulled up to his chest whilst desperately attempting to prevent the constant onslaught of attacks, the woman delivers a final, aggressive blow, ramming him into the cold surface and watching him hang his head in shame.

A trickling noise rings in Chan’s ears. As she retreats, a smug grin plastered on her face, Chan sobs out in shame as he slowly feels a puddle of warm liquid dripping down his toned thighs onto the grey, cold concrete. An amused, rude snigger echoes around the room whilst Chan bites his lip and cries, desperately attempting to hide his face whilst the piss leaks from his underwear and begins to drip out into a puddle around him. Once the stream of warm, acrid liquid dripping down his legs begins to die down, he buries his head in his hands and pulls his knees as close as possible to his chest.

“Disgusting” the woman tuts, bandaging the gash on her smooth arm and holding the knife against Chan’s throat. This is met by nothing but yet another choked sob and stream of tears.

The woman grips Chan by the shoulders, lifting him up and throwing his shaking body onto the bare mattress against the opposite wall, handle of the sharp, bloodstained knife between her teeth. He instinctively curls up, pants and thighs still soaked with piss as her firm grip repositions him, pressing painfully against his presumably broken ribs. She grabs the knife and aggressively tears off Chan’s underwear, smiling and firmly slapping his plump ass cheek. The soft skin is just about the only part of Chan’s body that isn’t bruised or bloody, but after several rough slaps, a series of red handprints appear on his smooth ass, staining the formerly unblemished skin. Reaching over to a small cabinet beside the cold, bare bed frame, the woman slowly straps a black strap-on around her waist and rubs the tip of it up and down Chan’s pretty ass cheeks.

With a coo and a groan, the woman thrusts into Chan, her hips snapping forward as her thick, black, rubber toy buries itself roughly inside of Chan’s pretty asshole. A cry leaves the boy’s lips, every inch of his aching body throbbing with pain whilst he feels the heavy intrusion shunting his body forward into the petroleum soaked mattress. By now, numb with the pure agony, Chan just sobs and weeps into the filthy fabric whilst desperately clawing on to the steel bed frame. Warm and pretty, his asshole stretching around the sadistic toy is a stark contrast to the rest of his bruised, beaten body, and his defeated attitude is nothing but a mask to hide the repeated pain rippling through his torso. Finally, whilst burying his head into the piss soaked mattress and attempting to regulate his desperate breathing, a sudden splitting pain shoots through his side and he blacks out. Everything’s black. Everything’s cold. Dark.

~

Wriggling his fingers and biting his lower lip, Chan awakens against a cold, porcelain floor. Looking down at his body, he sees the formerly attacked and bruised skin completely healed and unblemished. He pushes at the few spots where he felt splitting agony before he blacked out. Nothing. Stroking his right hand across his toned chest and smooth tummy, there’s a soft, ethereal feeling to his now pure, pale skin. He manages to stand up, surprised by the ease at which he manages to rise to his feet, standing securely on his toned legs and looking around him. Where the fuck is he?

He’s standing on a small platform, suspended in mid-air and covered in the familiar black and white linoleum flooring he saw before he was dumped in the grimy basement. However, the slightly memorable, outdated decor of the narrow hallway is nowhere to be seen, and where the walls were, lies a never ending expanse of fluffy red clouds. Despite the soft and delicate nature of the colossal clouds surrounding him, the colour is unsettling. It isn’t a pretty red, or a dark red, it’s the nostalgic bloodcurdling crimson of human blood, a colour that sends a shiver down his spine and makes his stomach drop.

Experimentally, he steps forward and the platform around him extends with every step, leading him forward to a distant platform, similarly structured with two dark figures hunched over on it. Eventually reaching it, the two shadowy figures become more apparent, and the way he instantly recognises him makes his jaw drop in shock.

On the equally cold floor, Hyunjin is curled up, his legs pulled up to his chest whilst wrapped shoddily in a white, bloody cloth. He looks just as bruised as Chan did just hours before, and blood seems to be dripping from between his thighs onto the stark floor beneath him. Next to Hyunjin is Jisung who seems to be awake and slowly tracing his blood stained fingers over Hyunjin’s cheek. Jisung is less abused and marked up than Hyunjin, but his eyes are shadowed and gaunt, his hair is bloody and sweaty and his neck is decorated with hickies. It’s almost terrifying, the sight of Chan’s two bandmates just as fucked up and disgusting as he was, he wants to reach out and touch them, but every time he tries, his fingers seem to morph through their glowing skin. Jisung turns, almost looking at Chan, but seemingly looking through him instead of at him.

With a jump, Chan wakes up, back on the liquid soaked bed and covered in a mixture of sweat, piss and blood. The familiar woman is slowly climbing the steps, wiping off her hands before slamming the door behind her. He lies there for a few moments, pondering his dream and rubbing his aching forehead whilst trying to figure out what it means. Then the realisation hits him. The others are here too?

_ “stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters _

_ collected the pieces and picked out a dagger _

_ i've pinched my skin in between my two fingers _

_ and wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors” _


End file.
